


easy come, easy go

by angryjane



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, POV Alternating, POV Penelope Bunce, POV Simon Snow, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Penny is a good bro, Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Simon's Magic Comes Back, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch Is Gay for Simon Snow, because he deserves to be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-09
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2020-01-07 13:16:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18411413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angryjane/pseuds/angryjane
Summary: Baz wakes up one night afte the Christmas disaster to find Simon glowing.





	easy come, easy go

**Author's Note:**

> hiya!!! i hope you enjoy this I'm kinda proud of it!!!

**Baz**

 

He's asleep when it happens. Doesn't even know he's doing it, just snoring through the return. I watched him. He'd heated up like a goddamn furnace beside me in bed, and I'd stuttered out of sleep to stare bleary-eyed and awed as my boyfriend began to glow. Actually glow. Like he used to.

His fingertips were glimmering, shimmering sparks. Freckles stood out dark against his gleaming, glinting skin, pinpricks of dark on a tan ocean, like opposite stars. He looked like the fucking sun. (He's always been like the fucking sun to me.)

And he continued to snore.

I didn't wake him, just watched. The light didn't fade.

I put a finger to his naked chest and felt that familiar, magic heat.

It ... was coming back. But not the same. It _felt_ the same-- like a sunshine and summer skies-- but it was still different. Not a supernova, but more like a burning star. Controllable, complete, living, breathing, burning. Like fire. (I love fire. Simon says I’m a pyro. He’s probably right.)

I slid out of bed, careful not to disturb him, then, and tiptoed across the hall to Bunce's room.

She wasn't asleep. Her glasses glinted in the mechanical light from her laptop screen, words shimmering in their reflection. She turned her head, startled, but relaxed when she saw me. I don't scare her anymore. I'm not sure f I ever did, not really. That makes me happy. I like Penny, and I know she likes me, though neither of us would talk about it. We just know.

"Simon is glowing." I say, and she's out of bed in an instant, bolting out the door. I follow dumbly.

Penny stops in the doorway to Simon's room, mouth dropping open. He's still glowing, brighter now, and snoring loudly. His snores are adorable. Don't tell him I said so. These days it seems like I find everything he does to be adorable.

"...How?" Bunce whispers, turning to me, "Why now? It's been... four months."

"It feels different." I tell her. "Touch him."

She does, stumbling to the bed. She lays her palm flat on his chest. I do too. It's like there's a simmering right under the surface. But again, this time it doesn't feel dangerous, not like it used to.

"It's not the same. This is... still Simon, I think, still his magic, but more... more Simon." She blinks and corrects herself, "That didn't make sense, but you know what I mean, right?

I nod.

".... Should we wake him up, do you think?" She asks. I don't know why she's looking to me for answers, since she's always been the smartest of any of us, but I shrug helplessly and supply, "We can try."

She nods back, and her shoulders set. She turns to Simon with purpose, then gently shakes his shoulder.

Snow is a heavy sleeper, and it takes a few minutes to get him up. When he does, he sits up slowly, rubbing a (still glowing) hand across his eyes and yawning before turning to us.

"Yeah?" He grumbles. His voice is thick with sleep.

Bunce clears her throat. "Simon... I don't know how to tell you this, but you're... glowing."

"I'm what?!" He jolts fully upright and puts his hands out in front of his face, eyes widening comically. Simon always reminds me of a cartoon character. I love him for it.

He throws the blanket off his legs and stands. He's not wearing any pants, just ratty boxer shorts. He doesn't think to be self-conscious; Simon never does. Bunce doesn't seem to care. I guess when you’re friends that long, seeing each other in their underwear is nothing. I wouldn’t really know.

His legs glow too.

"...Why?" He mumbles, looking up at me, then at Penny. I look at her too.

She looks between us and shrugs. "We should call Dr. Wellbelove. And my parents."

Simon nods mutely, hands in front of his face again. He swallows slowly. I watch his neck bob, then look at his face. He looks afraid.

Penny blinks at me and leaves the room wordlessly, pulling her cell out of her robe. She shuts the door behind her.

"Snow." I say quietly, taking a step closer. He won't look at me, eyes on his feet now. They glow too.

" _Simon_ ," I try, and he looks up sharply. I don't often call him that, even now. Force of habit, mostly.

"Baz, what does this mean? Why now? Will the Humdrum come back too? I can't go through that again, Baz, I can't, I can't, I won't, I can't--" He's rambling, shaking, convulsing. I reach out and pull him to my chest, shushing him softly. He buries his face in my neck and I feel tears slide slick and wet against my skin. Simon's tears always kind of burn me. I don't like when he cries. He should never have to. I want to protect him. I tighten my grip around him, sinking back onto the bed.

I hear Penny moving in the kitchen, and the sound of the kettle. She's shouting into her phone.

"Simon," I tell him, "You're alright. It's okay. It's gonna be okay. I'll make it okay. Look at me," He won't. "Please, Simon, look at me." There must be something in my voice, because he does. "I promise you, it'll be okay."

He only cries more.

 

 

**Penelope**

My mom is frantic on the phone. She's got it on speaker, her and dad in her office at Watford. It's the middle of the night but they were still working when I ring.

"Hello?" She'd croaked, like she hadn't used her voice recently. My dad coughed in the background.

"Simon's glowing. And Baz and I feel him magic coming back, but it feels different," I say without preamble. I'm a get-to-the-point kind of gal. Simon always hates it when I say “gal” or “howdy”, claiming it’s Micah’s American tendencies rubbing off on me. I like to mess with Simon, so I use the stupid mannerisms to bug him.

I hear something break on the other end. My mother has no chill.

“What?" My dad asks.

"He's glowing. Started heating up and it woke Baz. He's glowing, Mum, and it's back, but it's not the same. Like, it's still Simon's magic but it's less.... spooky now." I don't know how to describe Simon’s magic, how it used to be. It was like stepping into a grease fire or walking the bottom of the ocean. But it still felt like Simon-- soft and strong and protective and all things _good_. That's probably what I love most about him-- his absolute unwavering _goodness._ He deserves the world.

I can hear my parents shuffling things on the other end, and my mum says, "We'll be there as soon as we can. Is he awake now?"

I nod, then realize that's stupid of me, and say, "Yeah. I'm gonna call Dr. Wellbelove."

"Good idea. I'll text you when we're close. Love you." And she hangs up. My mum has no concept of proper etiquette. Baz says that's where I get my manners. Or, lack thereof.

I make tea and dial Dr. Wellbelove. He picks up on the third ring.

"This better be good--"

"Simon's magic is back."

He pauses. I like Dr. Wellbelove. He's no-bullshit, but still kind. He's helped me, and he's helped Simon., and that makes him good in my book.

"I see. What is your address?"

I grin, and rattle it off to him. He tells me he is on his way, and then I hang up.

I knock on Simon's bedroom door. There’s a sniffle from within, then Baz calls out, “Come in."

Simon is curled up in Baz's lap. The light has dimmed, but still burns bright. There are tear tracks on his cheeks but he's stopped crying. Baz's face is buried in his hair and one hand is rubbing lazily up and down Simon's back.

I was surprised to discover how _gentle_ Baz is, especially with Simon. It makes sense, really, that there was something tender and warm hidden under that snarling and sneering all along. But it's still amazing to see, really. Absently, I've always thought he'll make a good father.

I set the tea down on the bedside table. "Mum and Dad are on their way. Dr. Wellbelove too."

Baz nods, not taking his face from Simon's curls. Simon whimpers.

"Penny, what if it happens again? What if the Humdrum comes back?"

It hurts me to hear him so broken.

"I don't know, Simon. But I'm here, Baz is here, Mum and Dad, Dr. Wellbelove, hell, even Agatha. We're here for you. Don't worry about it. Relax. It'll be alright." I don't know how to be comforting. I'm not a very comforting person; I like to stay with logic and reason. This is outside reason.

Then again, Simon Snow has never been in reason.

I take his hand, because it's all I can think of to do.

 

 

**Simon**

 

Dr. Wellbelove gets here first.

Penny gets the door, ushering him into the bedroom. We probably should have moved to the couch at least, but I don't want to move. I'm afraid of what'll happen if I see myself again.

I thought it was over. I don't want this if it only means destruction. I can't go through that again. I thought I was making progress, the therapist said so. And now it's back.

But... it doesn't quite feel the same. It feels like there's a plant growing in my limbs, not like a fire. It used to well up and burn, and right now it feels like roots will sprout from my fingers if I take them off Baz's sleeve.

"Hello Simon." Dr. Wellbelove says. I don't respond, just curl further into myself. Baz's arms around me tighten, and I've never loved him more. He's so strong, and I wish he didn't have to be.

"Can you look at me, Simon?" Dr. Wellbelove asks. I do, because I like him, and he doesn't coddle me, and he's never done that obnoxious thing where people tell me who I'm supposed to be.

"Can I touch your hand?" I hold it out to him wordlessly and he takes it. He hums in the back of his throat. "You are very warm. I can feel the magic, but this does not feel how it used to. Does it feel different to you?"

I nod. He smiles at me.

"Well, that's something."

Penny looks nervous, still holding my hand from where she sits beside Baz and I on the bed. I wriggle in his lap and sit up straight, then ask Dr. Wellbelove, "Something bad?"

"I don't know yet, Simon, but we'll figure it out."

The next hour flies by in a blur. The Bunces show up, knocking down the door and barging into my bedroom. I'm bombarded with questions, and tiredly I try my best to answer. Then Baz catches me yawning and makes the others get out. Mrs. Bunce tries to protest but Baz growls and she leaves in a rush.

I'm still glowing. I'm still in his lap. He hasn't let me go.

"I'm so scared." I whisper. Baz's long fingers are pulling through my hair gently and I sigh as his nails scrape my scalp. He does it again, and replies, "I know, love." I adore it when he calls me that.

He continues, "But it'll be different this time. I promise." He leans down and kisses my temple. Then my forehead. The bridge of my nose, the tip. Each cheek. He kisses my left ear. I feel him grin against my skin before he blows a raspberry in it. Laughing, I squirm and fall out of his lap to the bed.

"Baz!" I'm giggling. My skin gets brighter, and I feel warm all over. He's smiling at me, and he wraps his hand around my wrist, pulling it to his mouth. He nips at it playfully before smoothing it over with his lips. I meet his eyes.

"I love you," He tells me.

"I love you too," I sigh. It's true.

My skin brightens, and then dims. I'm still warm as I tuck myself back into him.

I fall asleep, still burning alive.

 

 

**Baz**

It's morning when Simon wakes up again. I didn't sleep.   
He stretches, and a tan arm hits me square in the face.

"Sorry," he mumbles, pulling himself up into a sitting position. I catch his wrist and hold it up in front of us. It's just a faint glow now, barely visible in the sunlight streaming through the curtains. His skin has cooled too, but he's still warm. He's always warm.

Someone knocks on the door. "Baz?" Penny's voice calls. It opens, and she peeks in, frazzled hair dropping into her eyes. She looks tired. "Mum made breakfast."

Simon perks up in my lap. It's amazing how much this poor boy loves food. He scrambles off the bed, knocking me with a scaly wing in the process, and drags me to the kitchen. His tail swishes behind him as he pulls me along. I laugh and catch it in my free hand, looping it through my fingers. I love his tail. I love everything about him. Even those god-awful wings.

The Bunces, all three, are gathered at our kitchen table. Dr. Wellbelove is nowhere to be seen. He must have left, probably for a Coven meeting.

"Hello Simon," Headmistress Bunce says warmly, handing him a cup of coffee. I still can't believe he drinks it black. (I asked him about it once, and he told me he liked bitter things. Like me, he'd said, and I'd rolled my eyes. If that's the logic we're following, it makes sense I take my coffee with sugar, Penny had cut in. I swear, she and Snow are the couple here, and I'm the third wheel.)

"Hello." Snow says shortly. He sips his coffee and collapses into a chair. His wings fold up behind him and his tail curls around the leg of the chair. I land in his lap.

"Are you two ever not joined at the hip?" Mr. Bunce asks, grinning. He sets a plate of eggs in front of Snow, raising an eyebrow at me. I shake my head. The Bunces know about my… situation, and are wonderfully accommodating. They’re such good people, it’s truly disgusting.

"Yes," I say, at the same time Simon says, "No."

He looks at me and smiles shyly. I kiss his nose.

"Ugh. Get a room." Penny complains, but she's smiling too.

"I mean, we could just go back..." Simon trials off, hooking a thumb over his shoulder and grinning evilly. He seems better today. I kiss a (still naked) shoulder. The glow is almost gone now.

"So." Headmistress Bunce says, digging her fork into her own pile of eggs. There’s toast and bacon scattered on the table, and juice. There’s usually not juice around here, so I have no idea where she got it. The Bunces are all good cooks, oddly. Simon can’t cook for shit.

“So.” Simon echoes with a full mouth. A chunk of egg drops onto my lap and I flick it away in (fake) disgust. Snow sticks his tongue out at me, dropping more egg. I wrinkle my nose to hide a laugh.

“Ew, Simon, that’s gross,” Penny complains. She tries her best to look affronted, but she’s holding back a grin. Snow seems to have that effect on people.

Dr. Bunce clears his throat. “You’ve stopped glowing.” He says, and it’s amazing how sobering the statement is—the smile drops right off Penny’s face, and Snow stiffens beneath me. His spine goes ramrod straight and he sets his fork down. Pushing the plate away. Which is really what shows the severity of the situation—Simon would never willingly reject food, unless it was really serious.

I drape an arm around his shoulder, leaning into him, as I say, “Yeah, he has. I can still feel the magic though.” I glance back at Snow, “Can you?”

He nods mutely. He always shuts up when he’s thinking. It worries me.

“Does it hurt?” Headmistress Bunce asks, leaning over the table. Penny sips her coffee, watching over the rim of her mug.

“No.” Snow says, chin dropping onto my shoulder.

“That’s good. Does it feel like it used to?” Dr. Bunce asks, taking the chair beside his wife. Penny’s still leaning against the kitchen counter behind them. I make eye contact with her, tilting my head slightly. She and I, surprisingly, seem to operate on the same wavelength. Her lips press together tightly, and she blinks at me. She’s worried too.

“No. It feels like…” Simon falters, shifting, “Different.” He shrugs.

“Different how?” I press, looking back at him again. His chin wobbles, and I move my hand to press into it.

“Not so…. Intense. Still a lot, but not as loud?” He tries. I smile at him, trying to be reassuring. Words never were is forte.

The Bunces are silent, watching us. The Headmistress is writing something on a notebook she pulled out of god-knows-where.

“Do you… want to try casting?” Penny asks slowly.

Snow tenses, his hand fisting in the back of my shirt, breath stuttering in. But he doesn’t say no, just looks at Penny for a minute, then back at me. I raise an eyebrow at him.

“Okay.”

 

 

 

**Simon**

 

It’s a simple spell, really, taught to first years. **Clean as a whistle.** Penny had grabbed a sweater off the couch, (mine) and poured her coffee on it without hesitation.

(“Hey! That’s my favorite sweater!” Baz had protested.

“It’s not even yours,” Penny had replied.

“Your point?”)

Now it was laid on the floor in front of me where I sat cross-legged, my wand dug out of the bottom of my closet. It was dusty but it’d do.

I stared at the sweater. The Bunces were arranged on the couch opposite me, Baz knelt at my side.

I wanted to World of Mages back, so badly. Penny and Baz argued with me constantly that I’d never left it, but they didn’t get it. I might still be the Chosen One, but I wasn’t chosen anymore. (Whenever I said that, Baz would insist I was _his_ Chosen One, and that always made me want to kiss the living (?) daylights out of him.) Penny and the doctors Bunce would counter by telling me I had a place at Watford still, but what’s the point in going to a magic school if you can’t do magic? I couldn’t even get through the gates for the Leavers’ Ball.

I wanted this so badly, yet I was hesitant. I didn’t want to bring back the greatest threat the World of Mages had ever known. I’d brought it on once, I couldn’t do it again.

But this didn’t feel like it used to. This felt new, fresh, _real_. Like springtime. Or something. I’m not so good with words.

Baz’s hand found mine and squeezed. I raised my other arm, the wand one, and breathed, quiet, but with all the magic I could muster, “ ** _Clean as a whistle.”_**

Nothing happened, at first, then slowly, slowly, the coffee stain began to dissipate and fade.

I breathed out.

“Oh.” Penny whispered.

“Oh.” I echoed.

 

 

 

**Penelope**

I don’t know what this means.

I look at my dad, who looks back.

“That wasn’t so bad.” Baz reasons. He’s still holding Simon’s hand. Simon sags into him, and Baz’s other arm comes up to wrap around him, turning closer. He kisses the top of Simon’s head.

“No, it wasn’t.” Mum agrees. “Try again.”

Simon sputters, indignant for some reason. He’s probably got it in his head that this is the end of the world, that git. It’s not the end; it has to be a beginning.

He sits up straight though and raises his wand again, looking around. His eyes settle on his cold coffee beside him.

**_“Some like it hot,_** ” he casts. Steam rises from the cup.

Simon lets out a sigh and grins.

I grin back.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for coming to my ted talk
> 
> comments would be lovely!!! 
> 
> want to talk about carry on with me and get hyped for wayward son? find me [here!](https://angryjane.tumblr.com/)
> 
> have a lovely day, babes!!


End file.
